


Turn Down the Volume

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Getting It Together [28]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First time off screen, M/M, Masturbating in John’s bed, Masturbation, Mrs. Hudson wants quiet, Noisy Sex, Sherlock Wants John, Wanking in John's bed, john wants sherlock, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: For alexxphoenix42's Tumbler Johnlock Writing Prompts: I've been having this headcanon that when John's not home, Sherlock is wanking in his room, occasionally moaning John's name but 'course John doesn't know about that. But then he finds out because Mrs Hudson thinks they're a couple (because of course she hears it) and politely asks John to turn down the sex noises and John's totally confused at first. Do you know a fic like that or a similar one?Beta read bySherlock1110.





	Turn Down the Volume

It wasn’t as if John had been gone for days. He had only been gone for six hours and twenty-three minutes. Still, it seemed far too long to Sherlock.

Sherlock had entered John’s room with innocent enough intent. Well, innocent for him. He had wanted to investigate, or snoop about as John would no doubt call it, and see if he could find more clues to help him understand the inexplicable, fascinating man that was John Watson.

Somehow, Sherlock found himself spread across John’s bed, his trousers and pants shoved down his thighs and his spit-slicked hand on his cock. He stroked himself slowly, enjoying being surrounded by John’s scent. The sound he emitted was obscene as he reached with his other hand and fondled his bollocks.

Sherlock imagined that it was John’s hands on him, an indulgent dream, but he didn’t care. It made the entire experience feel that much better. “John,” he moaned, as he ran his thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

Over and over, he stroked himself and tugged at his bollocks, John’s name falling from his lips and moans escaping him at increasing levels of volume. When he finally came, his back arched off the bed and he screamed John’s name before collapsing back on the mattress in a heap of boneless, spent ecstasy.

* * *

When John got home later that day, his hands full of bags from the shopping he had done on the way home from the surgery, Mrs. Hudson was waiting on him. “Hello, Mrs. Hudson.”

“John,” she replied wringing her hands. “Now, dear, don’t take this the wrong way, because I understand about having a healthy libido, but could you please keep it down during your extra-curricular activities with Sherlock? I found it difficult to sleep during my afternoon nap.” Mrs. Hudson patted a bewildered John Watson's cheek. “Thank you, dear.” Before he could say a word in response, she disappeared into 221A.

John stood there, his jaw working silently as he tried to process what had just happened. He couldn’t make sense of it. Unless… Could Sherlock have had company? Could he have had that kind of company? John tried to picture Sherlock having sex with some woman… or man, and he found himself feeling supremely jealous. He didn’t like the idea at all.

Rushing up the seventeen steps to their flat, he burst into the living room only to find Sherlock, supine, on the sofa, hands folded prayerfully beneath his chin. Sherlock wore a suit and a white shirt and looked gorgeous, a far cry from the dressing gown or sheet clad debauched detective that John had expected to find.

“John, you’re back. Good,” Sherlock said as he spun around and sat up on the sofa. “The day has been positively dull. Now that you’re home, you can help me with an experiment.”

Setting the bags he carried down on the kitchen table, John faced Sherlock. “Dull? That’s not what Mrs. Hudson implied. From what she said, it sounded like you had company.” John noted the bitterness in his own voice, but there was nothing for it.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, noting the simmering anger that John was trying to hide. He was at a loss to discern the cause of it. “Don't be an idiot John. As I said, the day has been incredibly dull. There hasn’t been a client come through all day. I don’t know what Hudders could be on about. Now get a grip of yourself, put the shopping away, and assist with my experiment. I’ve been waiting on you all day.”

“No. I don’t think so.” John turned and headed towards the stairs, then marched up them to his room. Once inside, he slammed the door and locked it, then he threw himself down on his bed… his bed that smelled of Sherlock. “What the bloody fuck?”

John turned his head and breathed in Sherlock’s scent which clung to his pillow. It was pure Sherlock, untainted by anyone's scent but John’s own. What could that possibly…

An image flashed in John’s mind of Sherlock pleasuring himself on John’s bed. John tried to shake it off, but it was persistent. He envisioned Sherlock’s head thrown back, exposing the long column of his neck as he wanked himself. In response, John palmed his aching cock through his jeans. He could well imagine the sounds Sherlock would make. God, they would be beautiful. John took himself out and began stroking himself to imagined calls of ‘John' and ‘Yes' and ‘Just like that.’ He had to bite his lip just to keep silent. It wasn’t long before he came, spilling over his fist and making a mess of himself.

After several minutes, John gave himself a cursory cleaning, then dressed in fresh pants and jeans before daring to venture downstairs. John was in a much better mood, though he was a bit embarrassed. He knew Sherlock would deduce exactly what he had been up to. Part of him almost hoped he would.

Back downstairs, John went straight to the kitchen and washed his hands before starting to put away the shopping. Sherlock joined him in the kitchen, though he didn’t offer to help.

“You were angry before,” Sherlock observed. “You assumed I had lied about not having a visitor today. You went upstairs and had a wank, now you are much more relaxed, but slightly embarrassed. More importantly, you no longer believe I was dissembling.” He tilted his head to the side, unable to deduce what had brought about the change. John was fascinating and unpredictable. That was what made him so captivating.

“I fancied a wank,” John said, his eyes locking with Sherlock’s. “And my bed is an excellent place for it, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sherlock’s mouth went dry.

John approached him, his gaze heated. “Tell me, Sherlock. Who do you think of when you pull one off?”

Sherlock blushed, but he couldn’t look away. He was mesmerized by John’s gaze. “I… Um…"

John leant forward and kissed the corner of Sherlock’s mouth. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

This time John kissed Sherlock fully on the lips. After a moment, Sherlock kissed back. It was wet and sloppy, inexpert at best, but, God, it was good.

When they broke apart, John was grinning. So was Sherlock. John began to giggle. “Mrs. Hudson heard you, you know. She thought it was us. Said we were a bit loud.”

“She hasn’t heard loud,” Sherlock said, his voice low and silky. He took John by the hand and led him down the hall to his bedroom.

The sounds that they made together eclipsed all others that had ever come from the flat. Poor Mrs. Hudson didn’t get any sleep that night. The next day they bought her a noise machine for her bedroom and they all lived happily and noisily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> I read and treasure every single comment I receive, but I'm totally crap at responding to them. Please know that they fuel me. Thank you in advance.
> 
> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com) or @sherlockian4evr on Twitter.
> 
> Find out how my muse is doing at [My Other Tumblr](http://sherlockian4evr-status.tumblr.com).


End file.
